


Happy Julian Bashir Ficlets

by Damned_Writers



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff, Gender-eh Data, Genderqueer Garak, Neuroatypical Julian Bashir, Other, Trans Julian Bashir, we just here to make Julian happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damned_Writers/pseuds/Damned_Writers
Summary: Based on this post: https://a-stitch-in-time-and-space.tumblr.com/post/190310084534/a-stitch-in-time-and-space-happy-bashirA series of very quick mini-fics based on the theme of him being loved (by me and others) over the weekend, in which I started out by writing ten words that I associated with him and then saw what writing came out of each of those words and posted without editing. It was good fun, can recommend, will definitely be doing this with OCs in futureI have hcs about gender in the future + specifically gender in terms of Cardassian culture, as well as the three characters mentioned in the ship that one day I'd want to explore further.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Data, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 62
Kudos: 74





	1. fixation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jadzia is a nerd and deserves to be recognised as stuff (the sacred overlap of jock/nerd)

He had got it! The protein-levels, divided by – yes, and when you factored in the self-sustaining – of course! Double-check the thermo-reactionary hypothesis. It was so simple, he couldn’t believe that someone, never mind Doctor Julian Bashir with his super-brain, hadn’t thought of it already, but it all fit together so wonderfully, so cleanly, so… he rocked on his feet, pushed his face into his hands to stop himself from squeaking or flapping about – absolutely glorious!

“Julian?”

“Jadzia!” He jumped to her and began to explain, pulling her to see his results and allowing his brain to melt into the sheer joy of of his discovery. Some part of him broke through, realising that he’d been talking too fast, gesticulating too wildly, arms waving uncontrollably, forcing Jadzia to take a couple of steps back lest she suffer accidental flailing-damage.

“- ah…” he said. “… Apologies.”

“Oh, no,” she smiled, implacably calm around his particular kind of energy. “I’m amazed you’ve managed to recreate the hypothetical living conditions necessary to have survived on Designated 18. You’ve proved Wardi'ardans Unsolvable Theory about an entirely unknown mode of existence that was hitherto thought impossible.” She leaned in to study the screen. “Incredible. A new form of life.”

“Well, an old form, technically, two million years. I’ve been wondering about it for years actually -” he began and was off again. Jadzia smiled and sat back as he continued. She had time.


	2. body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Datashir Rights

“- and so you chose to be a man?”

“In a manner of speaking,” answered Data. “I have never felt a strong connection to the word.”

“Ah yes,” said Bashir. “Quite common, although I’m sure you’ve already done your research on the matter.”

“I was always… worried, for lack of a better word.”

“What about?”

“That if I did not make a decision it would count against my sentience. I know that my trial was quite public-”

“- I have a confession,” Bashir said suddenly.

Data tilted his head slightly.

“I read the full report.”

“Naturally. I expected you would have.”

“It was so… moving.” He began to pace. “Your arguments, they- well I felt seen. It’s not the same, entirely, my body and yours, but there’s a sense of…” he waved his arms.

“Ownership,” finished Data.

“Yes, that, exactly!” He stared at Data. “Amazing.” He cleared his throat. “Well, if you ever changed your mind, wanted to explore other alternatives, you have my support.”

“Julian… you are a good friend.”


	3. hobby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles and Julian are bros who think they're hot af

“Yes, but did you do the research?”

“I did the research,” answered Miles, placatingly -

“And did you make sure to also read the underlined footnotes?”

“I read the underlined footnotes,” said Miles, long-sufferingly -

“And did you check the sources I referenced for further reading, specifically on the mannerisms of Dr. No as paralleled in later iterations of villains in the books and films and holo-experiences?”  
“I checked the-” Miles stopped. “I didn’t check the sources. Look, I promise, I know how this is supposed to go. I _know_ James Bond.”

“Right, yes, sorry,” said Julian. “I just want to make sure you have the best version of the experience.”

Miles rolled his eyes and clapped him on the shoulder. “I know buddy. He put on the smoking jacket. “Now how do I look?”

“Just about…” Julian took a moment to straighten his bow-tie. “… perfect. Come on then Felix.”

“Always thought of myself as more of a Q.” Miles grinned. “Next time, I’ll be Bond, you can be the Bond-girl.”

“I _do_ look good in a bikini,” agreed Julian.

“I bet you do.”


	4. scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garashir rights also - Julian is very lovable and he has many limbs with which to love

Garak traced his chest. “I’ve never seen scars like these.”

“It’s from surgery. Humans sometimes change their outward appearance through surgery to indicate their inner identity in a more permanent manner. Other species have similar practises, it’s quite fascinating actually… ah, perhaps later,” he sighed as Garak ghosted his lips over his neck.

Garak allowed a a flicker of an amused smile, before pushing it down. So easy to please. He couldn’t believe that _Julian Bashir,_ attractive, brilliant, passionate Bashir, was somehow, impossibly, infatuated with him. “Why get it done like that?”

He shrugged. “In the early days there was only one way to do the change. It left scars. These days some of us choose to do it like this on purpose as a badge of community. Reminder of our choices. Not everyone, just… some of us. For different reasons.”

“What were your reasons?”

“… I liked proving I had choice.”

“Hm,” said Garak.

“Hm?”

“Oh nothing,” he said. “You just continue to amaze me.”

Unlike Garak, the attractive, brilliant, passionate Bashir was incapable of suppressing a delighted smile. All the better.


	5. parent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Benjamin channelling Jake and Holt energies

It began to happen the day after he accidentally over-shared with Captain Sisko. Or perhaps Sisko had purposefully lured the information out of him by using his Understanding Voice. Maybe this had all been a trap. Nevertheless, he noticed how certain people started treating him… differently.

Sisko himself, for one, started inviting him in for motivational talks. Nothing to do with his work suffering, which was what he’d first feared, oh no, but questions: Who was he seeing these days? How was Garak doing? Was he getting some downtime in the holodecks or would he perhaps like to take a spin with him across a couple of nearby planets with interesting plant-life?

It was disturbing.

Then Worf offered to teach him to fight with the Bat'leth. He was actually not bad due to his augmentations, but he couldn’t feel his arms after. Worf gruffly told him they would continue the following day. He didn’t know how to get out of it, so his arms reached a permanently deadened state, which made lifting vials difficult.

Then the O'Briens kept bringing the kids to him to babysit. _He didn’t have the time, no, thank you Keiko, surgeries to do, things to… discover._ And _Quark_ of all people… Quark gave him a free drink and offered to give him an apprenticeship at the bar. Same wages as the rest if he accepted, but a worthwhile occupation. Julian reminded him that he was one of the most successful doctors in starfleet history. _Yes, but not valedictorian, not that it matters_ , Quark hurried to add. _Not if you’re working in the bar._

Rom pointed out that Doctor Julian Bashir was allowed to live his own life, prompting an angry discussion between the two, which allowed Julian to exit without being noticed.

It came to a head when Lwaxana Troi came onto the station. She cornered him and for a moment he was terrified that he was about to be her next pursuit, but instead she simply hugged him close to her bossom and said: “There, there,” before leaving him, for once speechless, in his office.

He stormed up to Sisko, the seeming source of the strangeness, and bumped into the Major, who awkwardly began… “if you ever want to talk…”

“About what? _What_ is going on?”

“Oh. Nothing, nothing, just, Benjamin told us you were having a rough time, so we should distract you.”

“Did he say why I was having a rough time?”

“No. Aren’t you?”

He thought about that one for a moment. “Excuse me Major, I believe the captain and I have an unfinished conversation.”

He marched the last of the way and opened the door with the kind of panache he’d been learning whilst playing secret agent, finger pointed in accusation. He wished he’d prepared a speech though, because what came out was: “Look, it really wasn’t as bad as I made it seem. Lots of children were lonely growing up.” Sisko looked up at him from his chair, patient and placid. “ _And_ ,” continued Bashir, with less force, “you can’t just tell people to be nice to me. _Lwaxana Troi?_ ” The wind went out of his sails then and he dropped his finger.

“I never said anything to the Ambassador,” said Sisko. “I assume she could sense something. Or Odo told her. Either way, I’m sure whatever she did, she meant well.”

“She _hugged_ me.”

Sisko nodded slowly. “Did your mother ever hug you?”

“Wha- th- besides the point, but yes, actually, if you must know. When I did well in an achievement. And when I got into starfleet medical school. I didn’t like it, it felt like she was either showing me off or giving me a treat for being good.” Blast, he was talking again! “That isn’t the point-”

“Julian,” said Sisko, calmly, and it was the use of his first name that stopped him. That and Sisko’s ever-soothing voice. “I’ve met your parents. Perhaps I should have offered then, but there was a lot going on at the time. The point is, not everyone has the parents they deserve, so others might step in to give some of the support they should have been getting growing up, to remind them they have a new family now that values them. They don’t have to be lonely any more.”

Bashir stared at him. “Are you… offering to be…” he stopped himself.

Sisko laughed. “Worf says the Bat'leth lessons are going well, but you can just let him know that it’s not the sport for you. He won’t be offended.”

“Right. Yes. Thanks dad- uh Benja- Captain Da- Sisko. _Captain Sisko._ ” He fled before he could open his mouth again.

In the afternoon he bounced Molly on his knee while at the O'Briens, realising that Sisko had been right. He wasn’t lonely anymore.


	6. love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda want to write headcanons about how love is defined in the future - will we still be looking at terminology of romantic vs aromantic or have we moved to some new space, will various cultural and species terminologies gain traction… anyway this isn’t about that, this is about chairs

Well, it was uncomfortable now. None of them wanted to say anything. Maybe if he retraced the steps that had brought them here he could come up with a suitable response. Okay, going to Odo’s office to report a crime, catching him reading a classical romance novel – already something he wasn’t emotionally equipped to deal with, but then Odo stuffing it away and with an uncharacteristic bashfulness saying: “Doctor. You might be the person to ask about this.”

“Go on,” said Bashir, draping himself over a chair.

“It’s about… emotions.”

Bashir frowned. “Is this medical in nature?”

“I don’t know. I don’t -” his frown grew, if possible, deeper than usual. “It’s… hard to explain. Can you tell me about love?”

“Love?” 

“Yes. I think there might be something… wrong. In my processing. The way I react to… things. The way people describe romantic connections doesn’t make sense, but my connections _do_ feel different towards some people, the Major, this… _person,_ and I can’t quantify their meaning. There’s no heirarchy of emotions…”

“Well, things don’t have to be romantic to be important. And romance is a bit of a let-down most of the time to be quite honest with you. The language around love in its myriad of shapes and forms isn’t something anyone _really_ understands, that’s why it’s changing all the time - _and_ why so much poetry is written about it. It’s… fluid. Just like you I suppose…”

“Funny, Doctor,” he growled.

“No, no,” said Bashir, sitting up straighter in his excitement. “It’s an apt parallel. Think of yourself in fluid state, and then you become, I don’t know, a chair, but even as a chair you’re not _less_ fluid, the potential for constant change is there. Language, especially the kinds of nebulous language around things we cannot quite define, functions the same. So you are personally capable of being in some state of love, just like we all are. It might be less definable than a chair, or, let’s just call it a state of not-a-chair, but it’s not less real, no more than you’re less real when you’re… goo…”

“Thank you,” said Odo sincerely.

“And who is this not-a-chair emotional response directed towards?”

“It’s… Quark.”

 _Ahhhh_ yes. That’s how they’d gotten here. And Bashir hadn’t received some divine bolt of knowledge from the prophets to help him think of what to say next. “Well, that’s… _really?”_

“I’ve never shared that with anyone before and going by your response I won’t do so again.”

“No, well, I mean, I suppose I’ve made some… questionable choices-”

“Are you talking about Garak, by any chance?”

“What? No! Garak is. Quite apart from being a _spy,_ which granted, has been my fantasy since – but he’s also a ruthless killer and definitely not open to the possibility _and_ my friend.”

“In that order I take it.” Odo sighed. “At the very least I can rest easier knowing that I am not broken in some way a solid couldn’t comprehend… You were right. Thank you.”

“What about?” said Bashir´.

“The best way to describe this emotion is as definitely not-a-chair.” He stood up and patted Bashir on the back. “Good luck.”

“And to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Not-A-Chair" is a euphemism for aromanticism now


	7. stimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles and Keiko and Nerys are just a polycule that loves Julian

“Wow, this is. This is.” He stopped talking. Nerys looked to Miles and Keiko, unsure what the silence meant. _Is it good or bad?_ she mouthed to them. Miles squinted, but then gave a thumbs up.

Keiko simply smiled and said: “It was Miles’ idea. He said you’d been talking about them for months. Happy birthday Julian.”

“It’s just… _look at that!”_

“Yes,” agreed Miles, confused. “Look at what?”

“They’re, they’re-” he sighed happily and gave a little bounce and a flap, before gripping his hands tightly to stop further movement- “in perfect order of gradient acidity, with a degenerative effect of _exactly_ -2 per hundred. With this research one could, I don’t know. I don’t know, isn’t that perfect? A whole series of experiments and papers and discoveries. I didn’t even know it was still possible to get within a million light-years of the planet, now that it’s being swallowed by that black hole, how did you even…”

Nerys coughed awkwardly. “I had… a couple of contacts. Owed me a favour. Best not to let Sisko know.”

Julian hadn’t taken his eyes off the – to the three successful birthday-gift givers – almost completely identical vials of fluids ordered in a neat line. It was clear if one squinted that from left to right the shades ranged subtly from something Keiko would be able to identify as teal to a darker navy-esque hue. To Miles they were just blue and a bit darker blue. To Nerys they were hopefully not something that could blow up the station if handled by the wrong hands.

To Julian they seemed to contain a whole spectrum of emotions that he was keeping under ever looser check. Again he began to bounce on his feet, and he let go of his hands without seeming to notice, waving them in a fast motion before him as if he was responding to the faint flicker of light dancing across the blues. His entire body was vibrating with excitement, not just at the vast ocean of yet to be discovered scientific territory, but at the perfect order of the vials before him.

The others waited politely for the initial overwhelming emotions to subside. After about thirty seconds he suddenly gripped the three of them in a messy, heads-banging-together hug. “Thank you!”

“Julian,” managed Miles from under all the limbs, “… I think your elbow’s broken my nose.”

Julian sprang back. “Oh, sorry-”

“He’ll be fine,” said Keiko placatingly. “Luckily we’re already with the doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have hcs that the more comfortable Julian gets with people, the less he tries to contain stimming urges, but he still does feel like he has to try. He'll get there (this is just vaguely about me)


	8. books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Garashir cos I cannot resist

[ **this is just me writing this meme** ](https://a-stitch-in-time-and-space.tumblr.com/post/190243658988)

“My dear doctor, you cannot argue that it doesn’t bear a strong resemblance!”

“Of course, but your assertions are fantasist at best-”

“- and yet, it’s worth pursuing the matter, if only for the sake of justice -”

“- and what if we’re unlawfully condemning a man for a crime against which he cannot defend himself -”

“- do you forget, Cardassian Law is never in the wrong -”

“- if it was never in the wrong, then the verdict which has been reached through inaction was already made a long time ago and that verdict was innocent -”

“- _not_ if we were first hearing about the crime now, in that case it still needs to go to trial -”

“- and who would prosecute in this case? Who would _be_ prosecuted? -”

“- one would need to have a stand-in for the criminal in question, a family-member -”

“- all dead -”

“- an _indirect_ family member -”

“- oh _come on,_ would you allow yourself to be put on trial for a crime hypotheticallycommitted by your fiftieth great-great-great grandfather, a hundred times removed -”

“- I would! For the good of Cardassia -”

“- you’re lying and you’re getting off topic -”

“- _you’ve_ been off topic for the past ten minutes dear.”

“… what was the topic?”

“Let me think. Ah yes, I believe we were trying to ascertain whether Shakespeare’s The Scottish Play was actually cursed and were side-tracked by my pointing out its strong resemblance to that classical Cardassian piece -”

“- Ah yes, your supposition that Shakespeare travelled in time and space _to_ Cardassia and _stole_ the plots for several of his greatest tragedies -”

“- theft is a serious crime and should not be taken as lightly as you are currently doing-”

“- again, _hypothetical theft,_ and if any Cardassian could make a claim about crimes being committed, everyone would be executed or imprisoned -”

“- my dear-”

“Hey,” whispered a patron to Quark. “I’ll bet you five strips of latinum that that date ain’t gonna lead to a second one.”

“I’ll take that bet,” said Quark, who knew the two had been a couple for the past five years.


	9. childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand more Datashir as well. Also fun to write. Was not expecting to love them as much as I do. This is very... preliminary stages of something relationshippy that will become deeper, I'm aware it's not entirely obvious, but I feel the tag is still correct, because I am writing them with that thought in my mind? 
> 
> Again, having many thoughts about what "romance" even would mean in the future, but in some way they definitely love each other from the start. Their connection is just... canon basically.

“What is that?”

“Oh, just… it’s a long story. Actually, no it isn’t, it’s Kukalaka. My favourite patient.”

Data frowned slightly “I do not understand. You have performed surgery on this bear?”

“Yes, whenever he gets threadbare I stitch him up. First time I did it I was five. He’s an exemplary patient, never complains.” Julian picked up the teddy and handed it to Data, who looked at it with the same fascination he did for all new pieces of information. Julian, in turn, studied him. “He’s been with me since I was a boy. Sentimental, but I couldn’t let go of him. He’s… I suppose he’s the only thing I really cherish from that time…” he coughed to cover up his sudden discomfort. Data had a patience about him that made Julian even more openly emotional than he usually was.

Data looked up. “I was not a boy, but I think I understand. I have… mementos from times I have forged new relationships and formed new understandings about myself and others. And I write poetry for my cat, Spot, even though I know she cannot understand it. Much like Kukalaka does not require surgery. I recently began a series of verses about her kittens.”

“Oh?” Julian folded his limbs onto a corner of the sofarest, like a collapsible chair. “I’d love to hear some.”

Data nodded and handed him Kukalaka to hug while he began.


	10. righteous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure haven't actually finished ds9 nor watched voyager (yet!) but I do have an inkling of things that happen in canon (including books - aka Garak and Julian spend years apart post ds9 and when they finally reunite Julian ends up in a coma and Garak doesn't confess his love for him UNTIL THAT MOMENT it's a whole thing I'm ready to cry about)
> 
> In that vein, I kind of consider this as a beginning of exploration I'm interested in (once I've finished the show) where I look at all the ways they were almost-not-quite... because I'm sad actually, despite the title of this collection.
> 
> Nerys and Garak bond (slightly) over the one thing they both agree on.

Kira wondered to herself how she had managed to get into this situation. Stuck with Dr Bashir was fine – she had grown very fond of the impulsive, kind-hearted man over the years, but stuck with Garak? And now that Bashir was out for the count – for the best after running himself ragged for the nearby population until both she and Garak had forced him to lie down – it was just the two of them and the fire, waiting until dawn arrived with help and two separate shuttles.

Garak stoked the fire, watching her.

“What?” she finally snapped.

“Oh nothing, Major. I was merely trying to think of a relatively harmless conversation piece for the two of us. It’s proving difficult.”

“Let’s see. Politics, bad idea. Religion, probably not. The weather?”

“A little too boring for the two of us, don’t you think? Work?”

“Not unless you want me to start interrogating you about the obsidian order.”

“Perhaps not then. Culture?”

“Sure. Mine’s still rebuilding after years of occupation and yours is crumbling while working for the Dominion.”

He smiled humourlessly. “Then it seems there is nothing on which we may innocently fall to.”

Kira looked around for something they could both agree on and her eyes fell on the huddled shape of Bashir’s back. “Julian's doing excellent work.”

“He always does,” agreed Garak. “He throws himself into everything with a kind of zealous righteousness any Cardassian would be proud of. It’s admirable.”

“It is,” said Kira. “But I wouldn’t say it’s Cardassian.”

“… maybe not. His belief-systems are too self-formed for that. A human thing.”

“A human thing… but you admire it?”

“I do. I admire him. Ardently.” He glanced towards Bashir suddenly, betraying himself for only a moment before turning back.

Kira frowned in understanding. “Not quite a harmless piece of conversation after all,” she said, quietly.

“Maybe not,” he answered, giving nothing further away. They sat in silence after that.

  
\- - - - - - -

In the dark, Julian lay with his eyes wide open, wondering what they had meant at the end there, but content to know that while he was resting they were keeping watch. He was safe with them until morning came and he could begin his work once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway that was fun and I will hopefully do something like this again (or something more longform... would be into that once I'm all caught up)


End file.
